


The Long and Winding Road

by LateStarter58



Series: Love and Resistance: The Tom and Jess Story [2]
Category: British Actor RPF, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Break Up, F/M, Loneliness, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 23:13:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: When Tom found Jess, the love of his life, it seemed like a fairy tale. But there's no such thing...





	1. Prologue & One

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [No Resistance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921746) by [LateStarter58](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58). 



> This is the sequel to No Resistance. This is one of those stories that insisted on being written. These characters have done this to me all along - they talk, they don't take no for an answer... I'm afraid there is quite a lot of pain in this one.

## Prologue

 

 A light splash caught her attention. It was a swallow, swooping so low over the water after the tiny flies that danced there that it had touched the surface with its beak. It brought Jess out of her thoughts for a moment, and she looked around to locate Jojo, who was, as usual, snuffling around the longer grass by the trees. It still hurt to remember that she only had him now, since dear sweet Barney succumbed to old age last year. A stab of guilt raked her chest as she remembered the way she had dragged the dogs from place to place for months, first taking them from here to London and then to several temporary homes in the subsequent months. It was tough on the more elderly Barney, whereas Jojo found new places exciting; new smells, new cats to bark at, new children to enchant with his big brown eyes.

Jess looked up at the church beyond the trees. She was back home, but it wasn’t the same. For the first time in her life she felt really lonely. This place had too many memories of him, and in the last weeks she had been inching towards a decision to move. Maybe not out of the area, but certainly out of that house.  She saw him in every room, felt him standing behind her in the kitchen when she cooked, glimpsed him across the garden out of the corner of her eye, and it was becoming unbearable. He had moved on, so must she, and that probably meant selling.

But for today, this beautiful June morning, so quiet and peaceful, so redolent of everything she had moved to the village for; for today she was just here, sitting in the sun, watching the light mist rising from the grass, the insects buzzing and flitting on the water, the birds diving and soaring in the perfectly blue sky.

And crying. What else would she be doing? It was what she did most days.

 She had believed that it would stop after a while. But it hadn’t. It was her own decisions that had brought her to this, and she knew they were the right ones. But the pain never ended, never even abated. And she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She had stopped looking at the internet, and relied on Jenny to let her know if there was anything she really had to know but otherwise she had wrapped herself in a blanket of work and academia. In fact, Jenny had been hinting at something just the night before when she came for dinner, but Jess wasn’t in the mood for guessing games and she had changed the subject abruptly. Her brief dalliance with showbiz had been a blip, and it was all in the past now.

However, her love for Tom was, apparently, permanent.

She was trying to return to the life she had four years ago, but it wasn’t the same, and it never could be. She wasn’t that person anymore, the woman who boarded the TGV for Paris that July day no longer existed.

Jess glanced at her watch; it was 7.30, time to walk home and feed Jojo and herself, then get to work. The research was going well, and her publisher seemed to think there was a market for an English history of Brittany, given the number of ‘ex-pats’ and holiday-home owners there. Calling her dog to her, she attached his leash and they set off up the path towards the road. But as they turned the corner near her house Jess could see a strange car in the gravelled area in front of her door.

And leaning against it was a tall, slim, very familiar figure…

 

 

## Chapter 1

 

_She could feel his breath on her neck; his unmistakeable fragrance was enveloping her, seeping through her, making her his. The hands she loved to hold and to kiss, they were there, teasing the skin on her hip and her breast. His legs were hard against the backs of hers, moving gently. Her back was pressed against the planes of his firm chest and abdomen, and she could feel his erection against the back of her thigh. She allowed herself to sink into him and him to be absorbed into her. Squeezing her eyes more tightly closed, she snuggled against him and he whispered in her ear._

_‘I only want you, my Jess.’_

Not for the first time, Jess woke with tears soaking her face, her pillow drenched. She looked around her at the bare, characterless room. This couldn’t continue. She had to find a permanent place to restart her life. Somewhere small, quiet, remote. Unfindable.

Sitting up in bed she reached for her phone. Switching it on briefly she saw there were the usual multiple missed calls and texts from him. Nothing else, so off it went immediately. The dogs stirred on the floor beside her; she would have to take them out in a moment. She glanced at her notepad; the letter she had started last night looked at once too harsh and too ambiguous. But how else to get through to him? How could she make him understand? She had to stop running, but he had to stop too. All of it just had to stop.

______________________________________

**_Five months earlier_ **

The village street lights were glowing meekly in the misty darkness as she closed the car door. The dogs were settled in the back for the journey and Jess glanced over to the passenger seat to check for the umpteenth time that she had everything she needed to get on the Eurotunnel train in around six hours’ time. Booking details, the pet’s passports and her own:  all present and correct. She turned the wheel and pulled out of her drive and onto the road, feeling oddly disconnected. She was actually doing this: leaving her home of almost five years. Not for good, she hoped, but it seemed unlikely she would be spending much time there in the near future. She drove slowly up the road past the bar, the school, the _Aire de Pic-Nic_ and then she was gone, out of her beloved quiet French village and heading for a very different life in the big city.

Part of the reason she felt this way was that the timing and the nature of her departure weren’t of her own choosing. Jess didn’t really want to leave but it had become intolerable to stay. Her boyfriend lived too far away in London, and they had been discussing moving in together for a while. Jess wanted to do so, but this was not the manner she would have chosen. Trouble was, the modest house which had suited her as a divorced woman living alone was too easy for the media and Tom’s fans to locate. Despite the best efforts of the village Mairie and the local gendarmes, life had become a constant round of doorbell-ringing and cameras over the fence. After a few months she admitted defeat and had been forced to find a new home for her cats, pack her car and close up the house. It would serve as a holiday home for friends and family, and with luck she and Tom would be able to stay there as well one day, when all this had blown over.

 ‘All this’ was the very thing Jess had feared when she embarked on a relationship with Tom.  She was 17 years his senior, a former academic turned historical author, not the usual type of girlfriend for a gorgeous film and theatre actor. He had a very ‘passionate’ fan base. The overwhelming majority of them were sensible, enthusiastic and supportive of his choices as well as his right to a private life. But sadly there were a few, a small but vocal and active minority who had made it their business to attack her at every opportunity since it became public knowledge that she and Tom were a couple. Mostly this consisted of tweets and online posts, unflattering pictures – some faked – lies and rumours and all the usual unpleasant stuff that goes with fame. Unfortunately, one or two of the madder ‘fans’ had made the trip to her village and she had been berated when walking the dogs one morning; a deeply upsetting experience. Obscenities had been painted on her fence. The police (she had come to know the local guys very well) had dealt with it kindly but it all helped her to decide that Tom’s suggestion that she move in with him sooner rather than later was probably the best idea.

An hour after she left the village Jess joined the _autoroute_ heading north-east, on the first leg of her journey to the Channel coast. She had put the Beatles in the CD player and was singing along loudly, trying to lift her spirits. Her feelings were very confused, so much so that she felt rather numb. Relief at being away from the hassle and unpleasantness of the past months was mixing with excitement at the prospect of seeing Tom again soon and starting a new life with him. Most of the possessions she wanted to have with her, her books, music, clothes and paintings had gone ahead in a van with professional movers. A few pieces of furniture had been included, but most of her own things were staying in France. For five years she had been a relatively unknown author, quietly turning out a book every eighteen months or so, between gardening, walking and enjoying the French countryside. That life was over, at least for now. She didn’t look too far ahead.

The staff at Eurotunnel were their usual efficient selves. The dogs’ paperwork passed muster and after the necessary checks she was on the train for a brief respite while they were whisked under the sea to Kent. Jess closed her eyes and allowed herself the luxury of looking back over the bizarre twists and turns her life had taken up until then. Less than twenty years before she had been a housewife and mother with few qualifications. Ten years after that she was a (divorced) respected academic historian at arguably the most prestigious university in the country. Half a decade later she was a full-time author, and now…what was she now, exactly? She was still a writer and historian, but something else too. A role nothing that had gone before could possibly have prepared her for: Tom Hiddleston’s girlfriend.

Tom had sought her out. He had read her books and when he saw her on TV in America he developed a massive crush. Oblivious to this, Jess had attended a planning meeting in London for a film based on her book about the French _Résistance_ to discover that Tom had elbowed his way into the project and invited himself there. They spent the afternoon and evening together before he declared his feelings. Jess was horrified, not because she didn’t reciprocate, but because she was sure he would be repelled by her aging body. She was wrong. Tom loved her, and within a very short space of time she loved him back. It was other people who were making difficulties for them.

The doors of the shuttle opened and Jess swallowed hard before she started her engine. This was the part of the trip that she was dreading. Apart from a couple of short visits she hadn’t driven in the UK for years; the part of France she had lived in was quiet and traffic was scarce. But now she was on the M20 heading towards London; not only was she braving the scary British motorway system, she was about to drive into Central London, something she had never done before.  And her dogs were going to find the culture-shock even greater than she was, she suspected, as neither had lived in a city. Worse still, Tom wouldn’t be there to welcome them.

He was in Canada filming. Bad timing, but he wouldn’t be home for weeks and she couldn’t wait any longer to get away. His sister Emma was waiting at Tom’s house to help her move in, and greeted Jess warmly; they had hit it off immediately, despite the age difference. Emma was more or less the same age as Jess’s eldest daughter Anna, and Jess and she had quickly slipped into an easy relationship. She had already had the removal men put Jess’ boxes and bags in the spare rooms, one of which was going to be converted into her study, and her favourite armchair had been allowed pride of place in the sitting room on Tom’s orders. Jess watched as Barney and Jojo explored the small courtyard, marking their new territory enthusiastically and making their presence known amongst the resident cat population. It was a very different environment for them, but she comforted herself with the thought that animals adjust quickly.

‘Come and sit down, Jess!’

 Emma was calling her in, waving a mug of tea out of the window. They sat in companionable silence, Jess looking around her with new eyes. This was her home now, she supposed, although it still screamed ‘Tom’. Books quite simply _everywhere_ ; his various awards haphazardly placed on the shelves; a stack of scripts on the piano. The walls were covered too: paintings and prints; a picture of him and other _Coriolanus_ cast members with the Shakespeare First Folio at The British Library; photographs of him with his parents and sisters at his father’s 70thbirthday celebration; montages of holiday pics, photo-booth shots and a few from fashion shoots he liked, and she spotted something new since her last visit: a greatly enlarged copy of the selfie he had taken of himself and Jess in Hyde Park the day they met. She felt that familiar stomach flip at the memory of how he had romanced her all afternoon, talking and laughing, how she had fallen in love with him over _Earl Grey_ and then _spaghetti alla putanesca_. That sun-drenched day in the city seemed so long ago; so much had happened since and her life had in effect been turned upside-down by him. But despite everything she felt it was a price worth paying to be with the love of her life.

It was dark outside now, and Emma was perusing Tom’s large collection of take-away menus.

‘What do you fancy? The world is your oyster here, not like rural France, eh?’

‘No, that was one big disadvantage. I did miss being able to eat good ethnic food.’

They settled on Lebanese, and ordered a small selection of mezze, as neither of them was very hungry. Later, Jess was dozing in her own armchair when her phone rang. It was Tom.

‘How are you feeling, darling?’

‘Tired, mainly. It still doesn’t seem quite real. I suppose once I’ve been here a bit longer that will change.’

‘It’s a big adjustment for you and the boys. I just wish I could be there.’

‘Me too, but that can’t be helped. I’ll see you soon, anyway.’

Tom was popping back for the Olivier Awards ceremony in a couple of weeks. It would only be a flying visit, but better than nothing.

‘Jess?’ His voice had become very quiet suddenly; it made her anxious.

‘Yes Tom?’

‘I so sorry this has happened the way it has, but I am really happy that you are there.’

‘Me too. On both counts.’

As she settled for her first night as a resident of the house, Jess looked around the room. It still felt like _his_ , but she supposed that would change soon enough. She hadn’t shared a home with another human since her youngest left, and she was slightly afraid that she had become too set in her ways. She pulled back the covers of Tom’s (their?) bed and slid in. At her request, he hadn’t changed the linen when he left for Toronto. The whole room and the sheets and pillows in particular smelled of him. It made her feel safe, and, despite her persisting disconnected feeling, at home. She was exhausted, her eyes hurt and she thought she might have the beginnings of a cold. But none of that was what she feared was going to stop her sleeping. There was something else which was bothering her. It had done so from the start of their relationship but they had never discussed it. Now they were living together (at least in name) she knew she was going to have to raise it. If she didn’t, it would just fester and that would be worse.


	2. Two

**_My darling Tom_ **

**_Let me start by saying again that I am doing this not because I don’t love you but because I do, very much. I have done it because I know you wouldn’t, and because I know it is the best thing for both of us. If I had stayed that absence in your life would have eventually destroyed us both. You know that I’m right, don’t you? Please stop looking for me. Let me go, please. Find someone else…_ **

Jess threw the pen down. Every time she tried to write this letter she ended up tearing the paper up because her words seemed inadequate, clumsy, cruel.  She would picture Tom reading them and her heart would ache. She felt she had to keep trying to get him to stop but she had begun to lose the will to fight. Every breath she took was painful; her whole body ached from the tension and the difficulty of the constant travelling and sleeping in a different bed every few days. Now she was setting off for Northumberland, to a cottage in a little village near to Bamburgh where she had stayed with her ex-husband and their daughters years before. She didn’t think she had ever mentioned it to him and believed she would be safe there for a while. As long as she kept her head down.

ssssssss

**_Four months earlier_ **

Tom swooped in from Toronto like a whirlwind. He swept Jess up into his arms when he came through the door and walked back out onto the step so that he could carry her over the threshold. They were both giggling like naughty children when he finally put her back on her feet. The dogs were shut outside and they were going crazy at seeing Tom and all the activity only through the glass doors.

‘I would have done that when you arrived if only I’d been here.’

She stroked his cheek. ‘You look tired, darling.’

‘Yes, I was thinking that some time in bed would be a good idea.’

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and she took a playful swing at him. Once the dogs had welcomed Tom properly he carried his bag upstairs and Jess followed him into their bedroom.  He threw his luggage down and pulled her into his arms again, kissing her deeply, his hands reacquainting themselves with her curves. For her part, Jess pressed herself against him, luxuriating in the firmness of his torso and legs and the delicious smell of him. He looked around, smiling happily as he took in her things amongst his, her fragrance mingling with his to make a new scent: _eau de_ _them._

She could feel his erection pressing into her belly and she ground a little harder against it, drawing a moan from him. His hands went inside her t-shirt and a delicious shiver ran down her spine. She had never wanted a man more than she did Tom, and her desire for him had never lessened, only grown since their first time. Jess had thought her chance of a passionate affair had passed when her marriage died, especially when she neared middle-age. Now she was with a gorgeous, clever, sexy and loving man, making her the envy of hundreds of thousands of people all around the world. She was not unaware how lucky she was, but when they were together Tom made her feel as if he were the fortunate one.

And that’s what he was doing now. Slowly, deliberately he was removing her clothing, kissing every area of skin gently as it was revealed. As he reached her breasts he moaned softly against them, making her melt with need for him. She ran her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. He hissed and nipped at the flesh along the edge of her bra, simultaneously working to unfasten it. As soon as it dropped off her arms Jess pulled Tom up to her face, pressed her lips to his once more and began to work on the buttons of his shirt. He was nuzzling her hair, saying her name in a low whisper. She had never felt happier, more loved or needed.

Soon they were both naked and Tom lay down on the bed beside her, gazing at her with all the love and want she felt for him. They had not seen each other since late January and both wanted to make the most of the few hours they would have together before his return across the Atlantic. The day was unseasonably warm for England in spring and Jess had opened the windows to let the light breeze in; it was caressing their bare flesh as they touched each other with increasing passion. Tom’s lips were steadily working their way towards her core and she was quivering with the anticipation of what he would do.

Jess’ sex-life hadn’t been very adventurous before the celibacy her divorce brought in its wake. She had a couple of serious boyfriends then married at twenty. Chris was a thoughtful lover but she never reached the heights of pleasure with him that Tom brought her to every time. She felt disloyal when she realised that; her marriage had foundered, but not for that reason. They had split up because Jess had changed as a person as her academic career flourished. She was still fond of her ex and he had wished her well in her new relationship. But sex with Tom was something she had never dreamed of; she had always thought that when people spoke of the heights of passion they were exaggerating or at least not describing something enduring.

And of course, the solitary and somewhat frustrated Jess of twelve months earlier could never have imagined such ecstasy at the actual living hands of a younger man, let alone one she already fantasied about. But here she was, feeling that very man’s tongue on her clit, his fingers inside her, driving her to yet another crashing orgasm, no doubt just the first of many he would give her before he got back on the plane on Monday. And then he was inside her, making love to her, truly making love in a way that he had never experienced before either. Tom had been with many women, had a handful of serious relationships, but the day he saw Jess on TV his heart was hers. Before then, he would have scoffed at the idea of love at first sight, and indeed in the years between that sighting and their first meeting, he tried often to tell himself it was just a silly crush. But men in their late twenties don’t get crushes, do they?

When Tom discovered a way to meet her and make it look casual, he jumped at it. And when he saw there was a mutual attraction, despite his nerves he ‘seized the day’ as his best friend had urged him. And now here they were, madly in love and living together; and, at that moment, joined in the most intimate and loving way two people can be. He was deliriously happy, and he thought Jess was too. The only blot on the horizon was that she continued to get such horrible treatment from a handful of vicious and vindictive people, but they both believed that would die down after a while.

Tom and Jess spent most of his brief return making love, and in fact she had to bully him into getting dressed for the awards ceremony at the Royal Opera House; he wanted to stay where he was: in bed. He had to be reminded forcefully that the reason for the visit was that he had been nominated for an award and he was expected to show up that evening. In the weeks before, Tom had arranged for Jess to be fitted for a dress to wear at a designer store, and she was looking forward to reacquainting herself with the red carpet experience. When she called Tom in to help her fasten her gown – halter-necked brocade and taffeta in ivory and black - he stood transfixed in the bedroom doorway. She looked stunning in it and he told her so, then and several more times during the evening. Jess was more disappointed than Tom was that he wasn’t successful on this occasion, but he was happy to allow her to console him on the way home and once they were back home.

The next morning was painful for them both, but the end was in sight. Jess would be flying over soon to meet him and then they would head to the Pacific for a brief holiday; after that back home for some time together before Tom went to Northern Ireland to film _High Rise._ The plan was for Jess and the dogs to join him over there for some of the time.

Tom left for the airport early, but he had hinted that something would be arriving that day, and at about noon the door buzzer went. A gruff Scottish voice stated he had a delivery for Doctor Hancock. When Jess opened the door after buzzing the man through the gates she saw him getting a massive package out of his van. It looked like a painting or something, and when Jess unwrapped it she burst into tears. It was one of the photos from the shoot she and Tom had done for _Elle_ , to go with the interview she had given the magazine, beautifully mounted and framed.

When their relationship became public, they were inundated with requests from magazines, newspapers and TV shows, but Jess had resisted all until her publishers persuaded her to do at least a couple to coincide with her next book’s publication. In the end she did one in France and the _Elle_ one in the UK. The _Madame Figaro_ article led to Jess being offered an endorsement contract with the brand of skincare she told them she used. It wasn’t an expensive range, just a mid-priced one you can get in French pharmacies, but the company was ecstatic to get her recommendation. It had all seemed very surreal to her, and when the British magazine asked for a photo shoot with Tom she had laughed. But he seemed keen so she had agreed to it.

The pictures were very good, all taken at a chateau not many miles from her house in France. The stylists and all the other people involved had made Jess nervous, but the photographer was fun and obviously talented.  It seemed that Tom had arranged to get this shot framed. It was one of those they didn’t use in the magazine, so that made it a bit more special. They were in each other’s arms, both looking into the distance on the battlements of the older part of the castle in Sainte Suzanne. Tom’s chin was resting on the top of Jess’ head. He looked gorgeous, she looked acceptable (in her opinion), and they both radiated love and happiness.

There was a note in the parcel:

_‘There is a space for this on our bedroom wall, don’t you think?’_


	3. Three

Jess opened the door and was pleased to see that the cottage was as welcoming as ever. She set the dogs loose and walked through to the kitchen, unlocking the door to let them out into the tiny garden. As usual, Jojo ran around happily investigating everything, every now and then looking hopefully over the dry-stone wall at the field beyond. Barney just sniffed a few shrubs disconsolately then flopped down on the small patch of grass with a heavy sigh.

‘I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Maybe we can stay here for a while.’

Turning back into the house, Jess quickly unpacked the few belongings she had with her, and put away the few groceries she had bought en route. The house had no Wi-Fi, so she texted her daughters to let them know they had arrived safely. It was cooler now and she gathered the dogs to take them for a walk around the village. It was mostly deserted, as she had hoped it would be. Even in high summer, this wasn’t a busy place.

Later, as dusk fell she sat at the big kitchen table with a bottle of wine. Jess poured herself a big glass and downed it a little too quickly. She had posted the letter that morning. It was still inadequate, but she had to try to get through to him; he had to accept her decision. She had made it for him, but also for herself. The guilt had been eating into her and that would have got worse and worse. She loved him so much she couldn’t bear to come between him and the life he truly deserved. 

An hour passed without her noticing. Barney nudged her leg with his cold wet nose and she snapped out of it, her cheeks wet. She seemed to be crying all the time lately, but that wasn’t surprising. She felt wrung out. She hardly ate, drank too much, spent hours in a daze, slept fitfully if at all. This couldn’t continue, but she found it hard to see a future without Tom.

But that was what she had chosen. It was the only way.

ssssssss

**_Two months earlier_ **

Jess stood in the doorway from the bathroom for several minutes, just looking at him. He was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. His blonde hair, long enough now to curl and fall over his forehead was around his gorgeous face like a halo on the pillow. One large hand was next to his cheek as he slept, the other resting on his naked, lightly-tanned abdomen. She admired the way the dim early-morning light showed the defined muscles as his chest gently rose and fell with his breaths. And then there were those long, long legs; how she loved those. Her eyes followed the line of his thigh up to his perfect round arse and she felt more than a tingle of desire; if she lay down beside him now she would find it easy to arouse him with a simple touch. He was always ready and willing to make love, especially this week as they relaxed in this fabulous place.

Their sojourn here in the Pacific had been pure bliss; the longest time they had ever spent totally in each other’s company. It was a new experience for her, being in such an exotic place, as she had only travelled within Europe and North America before. The warm sand, the clear, coral-filled sea, the oddly familiar _Frenchness_ of the island; it all contributed to the magic. Every moment she spent with Tom only made her love him more, but there was a shadow on her heart. She had managed to hide it from him so far, as she had become accomplished at doing with any worries when they were together; time was always limited and she hated to waste a second. But in the week before she flew out from London, Jess had finally accepted something about them as a couple. She had come to terms with an important fact; an inescapable reality which probably meant that this would be the first and last holiday they would have together.

She and her younger daughter Sally had been invited to the Hemsworths’. Sally was delighted to be meeting Chris and Elsa, and Jess was looking forward to seeing little India again and meeting the twin boys for the first time. Within minutes of arriving she was holding Tristan and Sally had Sasha in her arms. Jess knew her girl wasn’t really the broody type, but even she was enchanted; they were a couple of stunners.

‘These two are going to break some hearts one day, Elsa. Especially if they take after their dad!’

She soon handed the baby over to his mum so she could pay attention to India, who wanted to know where Uncle Tom was. The little girl was genuinely distressed at his absence, and it made Jess start to think more seriously about the thing that had been nagging at the back of her mind for months. After a lovely afternoon followed by a delicious dinner once Chris had  returned from the set of _Age of Ultron,_ Jess dropped Sally off at her flat and drove home, struggling to concentrate on the road. She didn’t sleep much that night, and by the morning she had decided that she needed to talk to Tom about it when they got back from Tahiti.

They arrived home from their holiday in the early hours of the morning, which was unfortunate because it meant waking Sally who was dog- and house-sitting for them. In fact it wasn’t as much of a problem because she had to work an early shift and so would have been up in an hour or so anyway. Sally welcomed them, assured them the dogs had been fine and then set off for the hospital in the hazy morning sunshine.  Jess tried to get some rest after they had made an attempt to unpack. Tom had slept on the plane as usual; Jess envied him that ability. She looked at her reflection in the bathroom mirror: she looked awful, as she usually did following a flight. Sometimes Tom had dropped off before the wheels left the ground, whereas she dozed occasionally if at all and always felt like death on arrival at her destination.  After an hour or so of pottering and a brief walk in the park, she gave up the fight and went to bed.

Despite her anxiety about what was to come, Jess slept for most of the day and night, not waking until the following morning. But her dreams were troubled, and more than once Tom had hugged her close as she whimpered in her sleep. Waking with a sinking feeling she resolved to start the conversation she had been putting off for the entirety of their relationship. He wasn’t going to want to hear it, she was sure of that, but she had to tell him how she felt. And what that meant.

Jess had slept through her daughter’s return from her nursing shift and departure for her own flat. Tom had driven Sally home, returned, ate dinner alone and joined her in bed, all without Jess noticing. He woke up with her the day after they returned home, they made love and he appeared completely unaffected by any jet-lag or post-travel tiredness. Jess had no idea how he did it all the time on big promotional tours; it would kill her. But for now her main thought was breakfast. The last thing she had eaten was the in-flight meal on the last plane, and while it was quite good by the standards of airline food, it was over twenty-four hours ago. Tom went out for a run and returned with fresh bread and croissants, and they ate in the courtyard in the warm sun.

He had a few things to do that day, contract stuff and a meeting about a work offer, so Jess stayed at home busying herself with laundry and catching up on her own emails. Her publisher wanted to know if she had made a decision about a new book. She hadn’t; she couldn’t for the moment. She had a couple of ideas, but the matter she needed to discuss with Tom was drowning everything else in her brain out. He got back in mid-afternoon, bubbling with enthusiasm about the possibility of working with Ken Branagh again. Jess did her best to join in, but she was so preoccupied that she couldn’t hide her emotions any more.

‘Is something wrong, my darling? Is something bothering you?’

‘Yes, Tom. We need to talk.’

He grimaced. ‘Sounds ominous. Can I make tea? I find it helps.’

He was trying to lighten the mood, so she acquiesced and soon they both had steaming mugs of Earl Grey. Jess felt her stomach tighten. She tried to marshal her thoughts; this wasn’t going to be easy, and he was almost certainly going to be very upset.  She needed to keep calm and explain how she felt very clearly; he had to understand. Not for the first time recently, she half-wished she had never gone to his flat that morning a year ago. It would have been better for them both if they had never made love, never become a couple, never fallen in love. But they had, so now they had to have this conversation.

‘You know Sally and I went to see the twins the other week? Well, while I was there I finally accepted something I’ve been wrestling with for months. For a year really, since we met.’

Tom was puzzled; Jess had never given him any indication that something was wrong, and apart from the nastiness from the loony fans she had seemed as happy as he was.

‘What is it, darling? Tell me so we can find a way through it together.’ He sat next to her on the sofa, and putting his tea down he draped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her hair.

Jess shut her eyes and swallowed hard. ‘That’s just it, Tom. This is something we _can’t_ do together.’

‘Now you’re frightening me, Jess. Are you ill?’ His face was serious, and she had to turn away to stop the tears threatening from bursting through.

‘No, it’s nothing like that.’ She paused to compose herself. ‘It was India, she was the one who made me see.’

‘India? What do you..?’

‘Please,’ Jess cut Tom off. ‘Let me say it and then I want you to think about it, OK?’

He nodded, still worried.

‘Tom, you need to be a father.’ He started to speak, shaking his head, but she stilled him with a look. ‘Yes you do, and I can’t give you children. You know my menopause has started, and even if it hadn’t I couldn’t go through that again, not at my age. Been there, done that. And most important, I know what it’s like to be a kid with older parents. I lost my mum too young, and she was ten years younger than I am now when she had me. I won’t do that to anyone else. I can’t.’

Tom was distraught. He had given the matter some thought, of course he had. He wanted a family, but he loved Jess, adored her. He couldn’t imagine being with anyone else and if her age meant no children, then so be it. But there were other possibilities, he had investigated them quietly. Now here she was cutting off any hope of surrogacy or adoption either. He stood up and walked to the window.

‘I think we should discuss this before you make any final decisions, Jess. Let me put my point of view, the two of us should talk about it together.’ He turned and Jess could see he was crying. ‘You are just presenting me with a _fait accompli_. That’s hardly fair.’

‘Because I knew you would try to change my mind but I can’t Tom. I just can’t start again. But you should, you _must_.’

‘So what are you saying? You’re breaking up with me? You’ve only just moved in!’ Tom was shouting, his voice breaking with emotion. Jess was frightened; she’d never seen him so upset. Her own tears were flowing freely.

‘Were you planning this the whole time in Tahiti? Well you should get an Oscar darling.’ The bitter tone sounded unnatural from him.

‘I love you, Tom,’ Jess’ voice sounded small to her, and her words sounded fake, for all their truth.

‘I’m sorry. I can’t listen any more. I’m going out for a drink.’

Tom grabbed his keys and ran down the stairs to the front door; she heard it slam and gave in to the sobs that had been suffocating her.


	4. Four

Jess stood at the water’s edge and looked across Budle Bay towards Lindisfarne, hazy in the distance. Despite the warm sun there was a cold wind chilling her face and she could feel her legs were being sand-blasted. Terns were hovering and swooping down to take fish only a few metres from where she was, ignoring her presence. It was peaceful there; the only sounds were the sea, the gulls and fulmars. She considered driving over the causeway and walking around the island later in the week, once she had checked the tides. It would be nice and would make a change from the beach and the Cheviot Hills for the dogs. She could hear them behind her, wrestling in the wet sand. Yet more mess to clear up in the car and the cottage, no doubt.

After a pleasant walk under the shadow of Bamburgh Castle, she bundled Barney and Jojo into the car and drove back across the A1 and over the railway to the village. She had been there about ten days now and life had taken on a sort of routine, part of which was this daily trip to make sure the sea was still there. As she turned into the street where her rented cottage was, however, something was different. She felt a flash of fear as she recognised a car parked a little further up on the opposite side. It was Tom’s Jag.  How on earth had he found her, and what was he doing there anyway? He was supposed to be in Belfast or Bangor, working. She parked and got the dogs out. As she unlocked the front door she heard his footsteps behind her on the path.

‘Go away, Tom. Please, leave me alone.’

‘At least let me come in and talk to you. Just for a minute.’

Jess turned and looked at him. That was a mistake. Once she had seen his desperate expression and the tiredness in his eyes she caved in immediately.

‘How did you find me?’ she asked him as she made a pot of tea.

‘Anna told me. I forced it out of her, then I drove straight up here. She didn’t know the exact address but she told me the name of the village and I just waited until I saw your car.’

‘Aren’t you supposed to be filming?’

‘I walked out. I told them I’d be back when I found you.’

‘What? You can’t do something like that! It’s very unprofessional!’

Tom slammed his fist on the table, making Jess jump and spill milk on the tiled floor.

‘I had to find you. I wasn’t any good anyhow. I was so distracted I was unable to work.’

Jess looked at him, this time really taking in his appearance. His hair was messy, as if he hadn’t brushed it, curls all over as he had grown it out for the part; he had two days’ worth of stubble and his eyes were bloodshot; his shirt was creased and sweat-stained here and there and the jeans he had on were also grubby. Her heart melted a little, but it made no difference. She wasn’t doing this to hurt him, after all. It was necessary.

_Oh well, he’s here now. Perhaps now he will accept it and start to move on._

‘Did you get my letter?’

‘Yes, but...’

‘Then you know. There is nothing more to be said, Tom. I’m not coming back. You need to find someone else and have that family. That’s all there is to it.’

He stared at her, tears falling down his cheeks, chewing his lower lip. He had hoped that if she saw him again, and could see how desperate he was it would make a difference, but no. The love he felt for her washed over him like a wave, taking all the breath from his lungs and robbing him of the power of speech temporarily. He realised that this might well be the last time he would ever see her and the thought cut through his heart like a dagger. She was right. This had to stop. He didn’t want to hurt her any more, he had never wanted to hurt her at all.

‘OK, you win. I can’t live like this, and neither can you.’

Jess let her breath out in a long sigh of relief. She nodded and saw his shoulders slump.

‘But will you let me kiss you, just once more?’

Jess thought about it. The pain was so bad, how could it be any worse? She nodded and Tom rose to his feet and crossed the large kitchen in one stride. He lifted his hand to her cheek and lowered his lips onto hers. He had intended this to be a tender, chaste kiss, but when he felt her hands touch his neck he pulled her against him and ran his tongue along her lips. But that was as far as the passion went. When they parted they were both crying but it felt as though they had said a proper goodbye.

‘Are you going back to France, to St Pierre?’

‘I think so, yes.’

‘I’ll arrange to have your things sent over then.’

Tom walked towards the front door; there didn’t seem any point in prolonging the agony.

Jess followed him down the hall and his fingers were on the handle when he turned and looked at her, his eyes meeting hers with the same intensity they had in the conference room the day they met.

‘I’ll always love you, Jess. You are the one. I only want you. I’ll only ever want you.’

Before she could respond, he had opened the door and was gone.

ssssssss

**_One month earlier_ **

‘Please listen to me.’

Tom’s voice was strained. He was trying to be reasonable, she knew that, but she saw no point in staying any longer. It would serve no purpose beyond hurting them both a bit more. Jess continued to pack her suitcase. As she reached for the next t-shirt he caught her by the wrist. She tried to keep her voice steady.

‘Let go, Tom. Please.’

She looked up at him. He was frowning, his eyes were burning and she could see he was struggling to contain his emotions.

‘At least wait until I get back from Ireland. Please.’

‘There’s no point. Nothing is going change.’ She stepped around to the end of the bed and took his hands in hers.

‘I love you Tom, very much. I always will. That’s why I am doing this. You need to be a dad. The world needs it. Your unborn children need you to be a dad. It would be an insult to evolution for you not to be a dad.’

Tom was shaking his head vigorously at her words. ‘But I need to be with you more, Jess.’

‘No.’

Jess tried to harden her heart, but this was the most difficult thing she had ever done. She would swap all the exams, lectures to indifferent halls, painful meetings with lazy or failing students, all the horrible jobs she had ever had to undertake for this excruciating pain. The only thing that came close was having one of her old dogs put down; that had the same bitter-sweet mixture of agony and certainty that it was the right thing to do. She had considered leaving after Tom was already in Northern Ireland but that would have been cowardly and she was determined to be as upfront and straightforward with him about this as possible.

‘But where are you going? You can’t just leave, what about the dogs, your stuff…?’ He trailed off, realising how pathetic that sounded. He knew Jess; she was always supremely practical; she’d have a plan.

‘I’m not telling you where, but the dogs are coming with me. I’ll get Anna or Sally to collect the rest of my things once I’ve sorted out something permanent. Please do not try to contact me. We both need to move on.’

In fact, Jess was only going to Cambridge to begin with, to stay with her old friend and colleague Frances Porter. Frances had been Tom’s tutor when he was studying there, so Jess didn’t want him to know who was taking her in. She hadn’t really thought through the consequences of her announcement to him. It had simply become an imperative that she tell him how she felt, and now she was dealing with the aftermath, which was even more devastating than she had anticipated. After a week or two there, she had arranged to spend some time with her widowed cousin in Shropshire, but beyond that? Jess had no long-term plan, other than a vague intention to go back to her house in France, eventually. Back to her sanctuary.

It didn’t take her long to load the car, but it was a painful process, not least because Tom stood wordlessly watching as she carried her bags down the stairs. It was so unlike him not to help, but of course she could hardly expect him to, under the circumstances. When she went to fetch the dogs Tom was sitting in the courtyard, rubbing Barney’s ears and speaking almost inaudibly to him. Jess called the dogs to her and Tom looked at her with such an expression of grief on his face she had to turn away so he wouldn’t see her crumble. She put the boys in the back of the car and, taking one last look at the house, set off for Cambridge. As she waited for the automatic gates to the complex to open, she glanced at the rear-view mirror. Tom was standing on the doorstep watching her go.

She hadn’t driven very far up the road towards the M11 before she had to pull over and park for a few minutes while she cried bitterly, her head leaning on the steering wheel as the tears shuddered through her. Barney was whining softly in the back. He was always very sensitive to her mood and had been very subdued since the day she told Tom. Jojo was a very different character. He loved going in the car and after a short while he barked loudly as if to ask ‘ _Well, are we going or not?_ ’ Eventually she composed herself, wiped her face with a tissue and apologised to the dogs. Then she pulled back out into the traffic and continued north.

 

 


	5. Five & Epilogue

‘Get off that, Jojo!’ Jess was mortified. Repeating the command in a hoarse whisper, she tried again to get him to jump down from the section of Hadrian’s Wall he was standing on.

‘That’s an ancient monument, you canine vandal! Get over here!’

She quickly scanned the horizon for witnesses to this act of barbarism but was relieved to see that she and the dogs appeared to have this particular part of Northumberland to themselves. She had taken to driving out to the more remote parts of the area recently; she found the solitude and the bleakness a comfort, somehow. She wasn’t sure why; perhaps it was that the bare hillsides and the plaintive calls of the curlews were so different from the lushness of Tahiti and the bustle of London. Maybe she was just distancing herself from Tom a little more each day.

It wasn’t helping. She cried a lot; she dreamed about him every night; her body ached for him in a way she had never imagined was possible. After the day he had come to the cottage he stopped calling and texting her, so she had not needed to get a new phone after all. She was relieved and hoped that meant he had accepted the situation finally. Anna had apologised for telling him where Jess was, but explained that she believed (rightly as it turned out) that Tom needed to see her once more, just so he could understand that it was really over.

Except that it wasn’t, not really, not for her. Jess knew she would carry on loving him for the rest of her life, but she thought then that the pain she felt, the tight squeezing of her heart which was a constant companion would ease in time. And Tom was young enough to start again and find that special someone who could give him the family he needed to have. She hoped he could forget about her. But part of her didn’t want him to, and that made her feel like a terrible person.

The split had become public knowledge within a couple of weeks. There was some triumphant cheering from the ‘fans’ who had hated her all along, but mainly there was sympathy. None of them knew the real reason for the break-up of course, but there were a few guesses that were pretty close to the mark, or so her daughters told her. Her lease at the cottage was running out next week and Jess had decided to return to her home in France, and she was already feeling optimistic that things might get back on an even keel soon.

‘I’ve spoken to him, Mum. He says I can go and collect anything that belongs to you whenever I like.  And he said he’ll leave you alone now, if that’s what you want.’

Sally was ringing after her shift. Jess was sitting at the table in the kitchen of the cottage, looking at the place where Tom had sat.

‘Thanks Sal. I’ll make you a list. Anna and Pete will help. You can’t manage all that by yourself and the furniture won’t fit in your car, anyway.’

‘Mum?’

‘Yes?’

‘He sounded terrible on the phone. And the pictures on the net… he looks… awful. Heartbroken.’

‘Stop! I don’t want to know.’

‘Sorry, but ...’

Jess put the phone down. It was hard enough looking at herself in the mirror, without being told he looked the same. But she had done the right thing, she was sure of that.

**_________________________________**

**_A year later_ **

‘Hold on!’

Jess hurried into the study, holding her iPad up. The signal was better and Anna was calling to FaceTime. She sat down in her office chair, slightly breathless but always happy to see the beautiful face of her eldest.

‘OK love. How are you?’

‘I’m OK Mum. Look, the thing is… Tom called me this morning.’

Jess’ stomach tightened. She was almost afraid to ask.

‘What about?’

‘He wanted me to tell you that Sophie had a boy. They’re calling him James. He weighed 4.1 kilos and he has blond hair, Tom said.’

Grief, jealousy and anguish swept over Jess. She was unable to stop herself from crying, so just managed a mumbled _thanks_ to Anna, put the tablet down and gave in to her emotions. She sat, rocking and sobbing in the chair for an hour before she was able to move. This was what she wanted for him. He had done exactly what she told him to: found Sophie, one of his former girlfriends, and made a baby. He hadn’t wasted any time, which hurt. In the gentlest way she could, Anna had broken the news of the liaison to her, adding that she thought he was so upset he had done it too quickly, but of course only Tom could say for sure if that was true. He and Sophie had got married in April.

 Now their son had been born.

And Jess had never known pain like it.

She wanted to die. She recalled the births of her own children and allowed herself to wonder what it would have been like if Tom had been their father, just for a split-second. But that was impossible, and what was the point of torturing yourself like that anyway? She had pushed him away so that he could fulfil himself, and now she simply had to get on with her life without him.

She was back in her beloved little village, with her dogs, amongst her friends, surrounded by her things. She was working again, steadily writing and researching and burying herself in the task. The familiarity of the place and her career were comforting to her, but it wasn’t that simple. For example: the photograph of her and Tom at Sainte Suzanne was in the loft, wrapped in paper; he had insisted that Anna and Sally bring it to her. Jess didn’t look at it. She couldn’t even bear to see the town’s name on signs and had taken to avoiding that part of the _département_ for that reason. Everywhere there were reminders of him and they all wounded her daily, but she suspected that nothing would really be any different wherever she lived. He was inside her, a part of her and that couldn’t change, wouldn’t change until her life ended.

_Well, he has his family now; that’s what I wanted for him. That’s why I left him._

She stood up, walked out of the study and into the rest of her life. Alone.

 

 

 

## Epilogue

 

‘What the _FUCK_ are you doing here, Tom? You **PROMISED**!’

Jess was furious. She couldn’t believe he had showed up there, after all this time; three years, nearly, since they had last seen each other. Jojo was delighted, barking happily and jumping up against Tom’s long, jeans-clad legs.

He looked puzzled. ‘I need to talk to you,’ he said, following her through the side gate, stepping nimbly to one side as she tried in vain to shut it on him. He reached for her arm but she shook him off.

‘No! This isn’t fair. What about your wife and son?’

‘So you haven’t heard?’ His voice sounded small, and Jess spun round from unlocking the door to look at him.

‘Heard what?’

‘Sophie’s filed for divorce. I don’t blame her.’

Jess froze. _That must be what Jenny was trying to tell me last night. Why haven’t the girls…? Oh. My phone is out of juice. And I haven’t switched my iPad on in days._

‘Right.’ She coughed to get her heart back into her chest from her throat. ‘Well. You’d better come in before anyone sees you.’

As practical as ever, Jess’s first action was to top up the coffee maker with more water and coffee, enough for two. Tom watched her bustling around the kitchen, his fists clenching, his knees not quite knocking, but definitely close. He had never been more nervous, apart perhaps from that first night he declared his feelings to her.

‘OK,’ she said, satisfied that the coffee was brewing. ‘Come and sit and tell me what the fuck happened.’

They faced each other at the dining table. Tom looked at his hands, tightly clenched in front of him. Jess waited patiently for him to compose himself; he seemed very near to tears. As she watched she wondered how she had lived for nearly three years without looking at that beautiful face. A lump was rising in her throat but she swallowed it back _._

_Let him say his piece._

‘I tried, Jess, I really tried. I did love her, I _do_ love her, but not the way I love _you_ ; I never could.  I could never love her in the way a husband should love his wife, the way a man should love the mother of his children. Sophie told me this week that she always knew that, which makes it worse, somehow. She tried too, and we wanted to keep it together for the children…’

‘ _Children_?!’

He looked up. In a quiet voice he said ‘She’s pregnant again.’

‘Oh, Tom.’

He put his head in his hands, and she saw his shoulders quiver. He was trying very hard not to cry. After a minute he continued.

‘I think that’s what settled it for her. It’s amicable, I think… I hope. She has already agreed formally to shared custody. But we couldn’t carry on with the marriage; it was hurting us both too much. And it would have hurt the kids in the end, too.’

He stopped talking and looked out of the window, then around the room, taking everything in; the paintings and books and all the touches that made it Jess’ home. It made him feel better just to be here with her. He let his eyes drift back to her face. He brought his hands up to his lips, palms together in a gesture of prayer.

 ‘Sophie was the one who told me to come here.’

He reached for Jess again, and this time she allowed him to take her hands in his. She suddenly remembered something he had said four years before as they sat at the bench in the tiny kitchen of his old flat:

_I never want to be any further from you than I am right now._

He looked into her grey-green eyes, his blue ones sad and dark as he took her in.

‘It’s you, my Jess. It’s always been you, and only you.’ His voice began to break. ‘Will you have me back?’

Not trusting herself to speak, she simply stood and walked round the table and pulled him against her. He sobbed as his face rested between her breasts, his tears soaking her t-shirt, hers falling into his hair. They stayed that way for a while, until Jojo’s cold nose on Jess’ calf politely reminded her that he hadn’t had his breakfast yet. She persuaded Tom to let her go long enough to fill the dog’s bowl, fetch the coffee and lay the table for their breakfast. She needed to process what was happening and the mindless routine of the morning helped with that. And she always found feeding people therapeutic.

As they ate, Tom explained that once the news of his divorce had broken he had decided to come and see her. He had checked with Anna that she was at home, caught a flight to Paris, hired a car and driven down through the early hours. He and Anna had kept in touch and she let him know how her mother was doing from time to time.

‘I see Sally occasionally too, I don’t suppose she’s told you either.’

‘No, but that’s more in character, Sal has always played her cards close; Anna not so much. The sneaky little devil.’

‘Don’t blame her. I bullied her, as I did when she told me where you were that time. I can be pretty forceful when I need to be.’

‘I know that, but in any case you always did have her wrapped around your finger.’

Jess laughed. If she had known at the time, she would have been furious, but as it turned out, she was fairly certain she would forgive her daughters.

When they had finished eating they took their cups out into the garden, which was blooming. It always looked its best in June, before the harsh hot weather of July and August dried everything to a crisp. Tom stood next to her on the terrace and they watched Jojo running around playing on the grass, alone with his toys.

‘Anna told me about Barney. I’m so sorry, darling.’

‘Well, he was twelve, but it was a blow. I blamed myself for shortening his life.’

Tom put his arm around her shoulder.

‘I’m sure you didn’t.’

He pressed his lips to her temple and she felt her love for him welling up. She took his mug from his hands and placed it on the outdoor table next to hers, put her arms around his neck and kissed him. She kissed him as if her life depended on it, which in a way it did.

They kissed for a long time. Then they stopped and looked at each other.

‘You haven’t answered my question.’

‘Do I need to?’

‘I need to hear you say it.’ Tom’s jaw tightened. ‘You left me. I’ve been a mess ever since, ask anyone who knows me. I tried to do what you asked me to, to make a life without you but all I’ve done is ruin Sophie’s. ..’

He ran his hand through his hair, biting his lip. Jess reached up and caressed his cheekbone, a little more prominent than before. He was thinner. She felt a stab of guilt; this was her doing.

‘It was my fault. I did that to you both.’ A tear welled up and overflowed. ‘I am sorry my darling. I never wanted to hurt you, but you know why, right? I had to. I simply had to.’

He shook his head and brushed the tear away with his thumb as he took her face in his hands.

‘Say it. Please.’

Jess looked into his eyes and all the pain of the last three years seemed to fall away.

‘Yes, Tom. I’ll have you back. Of course I will. I love you, I always have and I always will.’

He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her, her body fitting against his perfectly and their lips joining like two halves of a puzzle. Tom reached for her left hand, his fingers entwining with hers to make a whole as he lifted it to his lips.

They had been wandering, but they were both home now.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I Think About You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922790) by [LateStarter58](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58)




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